Eternal Night
by Lynn Osburn
Summary: A re-writing of the Admittance story I did when I was only 15. Please R/R. Be warned, this story contains material which is not suitible for some audiences.*CHAPTER FIVE UPLOADED*
1. Chapter One

Eternal Night Rated: R By Lynn Osburn DISCLAMER: All characters present are the property of Disney. They have been used without permission and I SWEAR to you I am making no money off of this. If I was making money do you really think I'd be writing a fanfic for crying out loud?? The lyrics presented are property of the Goo Goo Dolls and I am making no money off them either. In fact I spend money on them!!!! TRENT REZNICK FOREVER!!!!!!!!! The song Iris is from their album Dizzy Up The Girl. This is a rewrite of Admittance which was the first Mozenrath story I ever wrote!! I finally decided to redo it thanks to the inspiration I received from Dessy Markova who was kind enough to do several pictures inspired by my first fanfic. Her artwork will be included in the re-write which will be printed on my web-site at I would like to warn people that NC-17 means that this is unsuitable for children under the age of 17(even though when I first wrote this I was 15) and that if you do not like what you read, there is a back button highlighted in blue at the top of your screen. Go back to the PG section. Because fanfic.net is horrible about italics and bold and such... ~shall represent a characters thoughts~ : shall represent a dream or vision: CHAPTER ONE And I'd give up forever to touch you  
  
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
  
And I don't want to go home right now It was as though he'd awakened from a long sleep only to find that he was still trapped deep within a nightmare. He could not recognize the place he was in, nor did he recognize the hand wrapped firmly around his own tiny fingers. Dark colors swirled together in his eyes, making it impossible to look around and see who held him. "Where am I?" he yelled out loud, used to being a vocal child. ~You are with me child. Be silent and you may survive this encounter.~ The voice the spoke inside his head was feminine and commanding. There was an undertone to the voice that he automatically didn't like. His instincts told him to rebel, and like most children, he obeyed. "I want my momma!" he screamed out, twisting and flailing about angrily. "Put me down now! Momma!" He yelled and balled up his tiny fists, hitting out at whatever it was holding him. A hiss tore through the air and his under-senses warned him. He ducked expertly, and he felt the air swoosh as he narrowly missed the hit. The hand still gripped him firmly, refusing to let go. A slick feeling was running down his palm and even though it hurt, it was making it difficult for his captor to keep a hold on him. The little boy twisted his arm and wrenched free, running off into the abyss of dark colors. He heard someone make a sound that reminded him of a drowning cat and began to run faster. Even at such a young age he was fast, but it was hard to tell if he was even running. The colors refused to stop swirling around him, making him feel boxed in and afraid. It wasn't the dark that scared him. His momma had told him that the dark isn't scary if you know what's in it. But that was the problem. There was nothing in the darkness, nothing but noises and a feeling of insecurity. He wished he had his bear to snuggle up to. Determined not to settle down, he ran in what he hoped was a different direction. The colors closed in on him, tightening up like a rose bud. He tried another way and was once again cut off. "Lemme go!" he took his small fists and tried to hit the world around him. Instead of making contact, he swung as air and fell on his face. ~At least that means there's a floor~ he though and rubbed his cheek. He heard something growl softly. It wasn't the kind of growl you heard from a puppy or anything nice. This was a growl from something looking for someone. He could feel it straight down to his bones. He was being hunted for. He crouched down, wondering if the darkness would hide him from them as well as it hide everything else from him. Two luminescent yellow eyes appeared, followed by a huge sulking form that dragged it's knuckles like a gorilla. Thick fur covered it's body as it's huge ears fanned out wide and it tilted it's head to the side, listening. He didn't even dare to gasp at it's sight. He was smart enough to stay silent and still. He kept his breath even and calm. Terrified shivering always gave you away. Dagger shaped teeth poked out from it's enlarged jaw and it sniffed the air. He heard a deep, reverberating sound, almost like an evil purr, and ran the second he saw those hateful yellow eyes lock onto him. There was no growling or snarling. Just a clawed hand that picked him up as though he was weightless and sniffed him like a piece of meat which might have gone bad. The eyes narrowed and clutched him tight. He kicked and would have bitten if the fur didn't smell like mothballs. "Bring me that wretched brat!" The voice wasn't in his head this time, but it was just as loud. The clawed hand dropped him at the foot of a woman wearing a red dress with gold trim. "You...you had better take care that you do not become more trouble then you are worth!" He felt small claws rake his neck threateningly. "Now...what is your name?" "My name..." He hesitated. His mother had told him never to tell a stranger his name. The problem was, he couldn't remember his name. "My name..." There was a contented purr from above him. "And...where are you from little one?" The silk hand lifted up his chin gently and he stared into green eyes. "I'm from...somewhere green." He fought hard to remember it. He could remember waterfalls and green fields all around him. He fought to bring back into his mind the while marble pillars and...and what. He couldn't remember. He felt himself start to panic. The purr grew louder. "What about a family? Do you have a family anywhere?" she was enjoying this immensely. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction, but he didn't know anything else to say. "I don't know." He answered honestly. His momma had told him to always be honest... Wait! If he had a momma, then he must have a family! "I do! I do have a family! At least I've got a mother!" he said firmly and set his chin in a stubborn line. A his erupted from the green eyed lady. The locks of thick black hair on his head were seized and he yelped as they were pulled back. "Listen to me you stubborn brat!" He could feel those eyes burrowing into his. There was nothing but hatred there. Hatred and dark magick. His parents had warned him about magick like that. They had warned him about the bad feeling that was now making his spine arch as he stared into the woman's eyes. "You have no family. They abandoned you to me. Forget them!" Her voice said every sentence like it was simple truth and he was a fool for not having realized it. "No! Thats not true! I have a family!" He shouted, as if by volume he could make her go away. "Then what are their names?" she said in that cajoling voice of hers. "Umm...I...I-I-I.." He felt those eyes pierce something deep inside him. Slowly, the memories of the lush green land didn't seem so real. It felt like a dream you could only half remember from the night before. The kind you tried so hard to remember, and the harder to tried, the harder it was to remember. "I can't remember." He said in a far away voice. "Thats because they never existed. I created you." She said firmly. "My name is Mirage... your mother." He felt doubt well up in his mind. Mothers weren't like this. Mothers hugged you and kissed you and gave you spankings when you were bad. This person wasn't a mother. "How do you know? You can't remember your mother. How do you know I'm not her?" The Mirage whispered sweetly in his ear. He felt a warm tongue caress his cheek in what felt like maternal affection. "Don't deny your momma." He smiled. Maybe she was his momma. But still, his stubborn mind rebelled. "Than what's my name?" "Name?" she said questioningly. "If your my momma, what's my name?" The doubts became firmer again and the green eyed woman bit her lip, like trying to remember something. "Wroth... no... Morzan... Mozenrath!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Your name is Mozenrath." "Mozenrath?" he tried the name out on his tongue. It sounded right. It felt right when he said it. "Mozenrath." He said with more confidence. "Yeah. Yeah I think thats my name." little Mozenrath clung happily to his 'mothers' knees. He felt the muscles there tense automatically, like she was uncomfortable with this, and looked up. "What's wrong momma?" He could see her face clearly now, and didn't seem at all surprised by the cat features. "Nothing darling. Do you know where we're going?" little Mozenrath shook his head. "I'm going to take you to a magick man who's going to teach you all sorts of wonderful spells. And mommy wants you to behave and do what he tells you to okay?" Mozenrath nodded and smiled happily again. "Okay." 


	2. Chapter Two

Eternal Night Rated: R By Lynn Osburn Because fanfic.net is horrible about italics and bold and such... ~shall represent a characters thoughts~ : shall represent a dream or vision: CHAPTER TWO And all I can taste is this moment   
  
And all I can breathe is your life   
  
'Cause sooner or later it's over   
  
I just don't want to miss you tonight Mozenrath tugged on his mothers skirt as they entered the place where she said the magick man was. "Mommy!" she whispered quietly. "Mommy I don't like this place." He was sure he'd never seen a place like this before. There was a funny smell in the air like rotted cattle meat and pig swallow. The sand under his feet looked weird to. He though that all sand was gold colored, but this stuff was black and sucked at his feet. "Momma I can't walk in this stuff." He protested as she drug him ford.  
  
"Hush Mozenrath!" she ordered as they walked towards a huge structure at the top of a peak. As he tried to keep up with his mothers brisk pace up the hill, Mozenrath looked down into a black sea. The waves crashed against the moss covered rocks and each time they collided, he was sure he could hear somebody scream. The foam that topped the waves formed vaguely human shapes and stared up at him  
  
Those weren't the only eyes keeping watch. In the crumbled buildings bellow he saw thin shapes bustling about, covered in rags and filthy clothing. He felt bad for them somehow and reached out for a brief moment.  
  
He recoiled the moment he saw their flesh. ~Lepers~ he almost screamed and stumbled away as the sorrow filled eyes looked at him. Their flesh was covered in boils and scars, oozing some foreign liquid that smelled funny. "Mommy!" he screamed out and felt two hands grip either side of him. For a second he wondered if one of the diseased people had grabbed him and was only too thankful to find himself in his mothers arms.  
  
"What do you think your doing?" she hissed out and slashed at the nearest leper, her claws leaving green marks deep in the already ruined flesh. The small group that had congregated around him dispersed within seconds. He turned up to his mother, wanting a hug of some sort and instead felt the flat side of her palm hit against his cheek. "Stupid child! They are unclean! After all the trouble I went through you dare risk yourself like that!" she raised her hand again and instead only grabbed him and hauled him up the hill.  
  
Mozenrath wasn't sure what to think. He couldn't remember ever having been hit before! He rubbed his cheek and set his chin in a stubborn pout as they neared the doors of the foreboding palace.  
  
Slowly the doors swung open as a mountain of foul smelling fog surrounded him and his mother. Mozenrath hide behind his mothers skirts and peeked out curiously from behind her legs. "Momma." he said unsurely. "Silence." She hissed out as someone began walking towards them. His posture was straight and his gait was smooth. He dressed in long flowing robes made from what was clearly high quality silks despite the colors. He seemed to be very fond of a dark gray with dingy green and pasty yellow along the creases. It was of such a tone that it was difficult to tell if the dye was natural or simply aged that way. "Ah! Mirage, Oh Divine one" He clapped his hands together and bowed low to the ground. "For what reason does the daughter of Set visit me?" His accent wasn't like any Mozenrath had ever heard before. Thick and cultured, Mozenrath didn't trust it. It wasn't specifically the accent, but rather the way he spoke, too honeyed of a voice, too much insincerity. "Good Evening Destain. I have decided that after years of loyal services to me, I should present you with a gift." Mirage reached from behind her and grabbed Mozenrath around the arms, dragging him out. "This little boy is Mozenrath, I recently.acquired him and upon doing so discovered that he has some rather unusual magical potential." "Potential hum. Mirage, you know I rarely take on pupils." Destain leaned in closer, inspecting Mozenrath. His skin was the same color as dry sandpaper and his hands had the same texture as he lifted Mozenrath's chin. He had dark black rings under his eyes that looked to be more natural then from some sort of sleep deprivation. His hair was remarkably well groomed. He kept the pepper gray mass tied up behind his head and half hidden under an odd cap. "Indeed he'd have to be extraordinarily gifted in order for me to take him on." "Really? I don't suppose his looks would help improve your disposition at all?" Mirage smiled cattishly and pushed Mozenrath ford. Destain laughed dryly and brought his face in close to the boys. "Perhaps. I do have a somewhat exotic taste." He traced the line of Mozenrath's jaw and brushed a forlock of hair from between his eyes. "You smell funny." Mozenrath blurted out without thinking. He automatically slapped a hand over his mouth as his eyes grew wide. He hadn't meant to sound to rude, but it was true. The man reeked of some unknown odor that offended everyone near. He backed away, suddenly very aware that this man was just as likely to hit him as his mother. Instead, the man simply smiled. "He is quite a problem child isn't he Mirage?" "Well, I shall leave it up to you to solve that problem?" Mirage asked slyly. "If you are truly worried about his magickal value, just scry him." She gestured airily as though this was taking far more time then she could afford. Destain humphed and stared intensely at Mozenrath, still unsure. Mozenrath tried to back away but felt those dark gray eyes burrow deeply into his own. He felt an uncomfortable tingle creeping up his spine and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. "Stop this." He whispered n a stronger voice then he though possible. "Stop this!" he yelled out as Destain's angry, violent power seized him. His stomach churned nastily and his knees felt weak. He could see something growing in the back of Destain's eyes, a kind of emotion he had never seen before. Soon enough, the magick man broke contact with the small boy and Mozenrath collapsed. "Forgive me, Oh Divine one." He said in a voice that sounded almost breathless with joy. Those eyes stared back down at Mozenrath, locking him in place. "I am most honored to receive such a rare gift from you. I only hope that I may prove a worth teacher for the boy." Mirage purred, her pride contented. "Really Destain, did you think I would send you some stripling sorcerer." She cleaned her claws and smiled. "Train him well sorcerer of the Land of Eternal Night." She began to rise into the air. "I shall return to check on his progress." With a snap of her fingers and a flash of green flame she vanished, leaving Mozenrath with the foul smelling sorcerer. "Well, well , well. So you are to be my new little kitten." Destain circled Mozenrath like a vulture. He leaned in close and draped a long arm around Mozenrath's shoulder's bringing him in close. "Do you know how powerful you are Mozenrath?" He watched with that unfathomable emotion and Mozenrath stiffly shook his head no. "Ohhh why you are very powerful indeed." "How powerful?" Mozenrath asked shyly. True, he disliked this man, but his curiosity was just enough to outweigh his distaste. Destain seemed pleased by the question and patted Mozenrath on the head. "Very powerful. Perhaps more powerful then me." ~I doubt that would take much~ Mozenrath thought inwardly. True, his mother had called this man a sorcerer, but despite his best efforts, Mozenrath felt no real POWER coming from this man. Yes, the scrying had show magickal talent, but still, magick had a definite FEEL to it. This seemed more like a trick by a magician. But still, his mother had said this man could teach magick. "Of course there is a small problem." Destain gestured with two fingers, drawing them close together. Mozenrath cocked his head to one side in question. "The power, it is locked up deep inside you. It will take a very long time, and a lot of studying to bring it out." "Why? Isn't there a key?" Mozenrath asked. "I thought every lock had a key?" He asked when Destain shook his head no. "You see this lock is very different. It has to be picked out." Destain explained patiently. "Why?" Mozenrath asked again. "Because.do you remember when your.mommy brought you here?" He asked. "Well you see when she brought you here, she exposed you to a whole lot of very very powerful magick. That magick disrupted your tiny body and.broke the key that would have allowed me.you to simply use your magick." Destain grimaced inwardly. No wonder Mirage had dumped this troublesome brat in his lap. She had gotten careless from some reason and exposed him openly to the Abyss. ~Which means she was probably in a rush after she kidnapped him from wherever.~ After she had realized her mistake, she had decided to simply give him to one of her minions to spend years pulling his power back out into the open where it would be of some use to her. ~Damn her.~ "So.I'm going to have to pick the lock?" Mozenrath frowned when Destain nodded a yes. "But that's like stealing, isn't it." Destain gave a strained grin, but forced himself into control.If he lost control and frightened the child now, he would never get him trained right. "But, the power is already inside you Mozenrath. It already belongs to you. How can you steal from yourself?" Mozenrath thought about it. That made sense. If the power was already his, then didn't he deserve it? Still, something seemed wrong about the whole scenario. "I don't know sir. This still seems wrong." ~Confound this damn childhood sense of morality!~ Destain forced a smile onto his face once again and caressed the side of Mozenrath's soft cheek. ~Such beautiful skin. I wonder where Mirage did gather him from?~ "Now Mozenrath, would your mother entrust you to me if she thought I would do something wrong?" he asked, invoking a child's natural trust in their mother. "Of course not." He smiled as Mozenrath shook his head in a half- hearted no. "Now, why don't we go inside, and I'll show you your room." He stood and Mozenrath hesitantly took his offered hand. 


	3. Chapter Three

Eternal Night  
  
Rated: R  
  
By Lynn Osburn  
  
Because fanfic.net is horrible about italics and bold and such...  
  
~shall represent a characters thoughts~  
  
: shall represent a dream or vision:  
  
CHAPTER THREE:  
  
And I don't want the world to see me  
  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
  
When everythings made to be broken  
  
I just want you to know who I am  
  
Mozenrath ran through the halls as fast as his tiny feet could carry him. With two years growth now firmly on his body, the eight year old boy used his long legs to put distance between him and his Master. ~Master. He always makes me call him Master~ Mozenrath thought as he turned down a corridor and speed down the stairs. He could feel the mana beginning to pulse behind him as Destain yelled for him to get back there. He knew he was in for it!  
  
This time he'd really messed up badly.  
  
The mana flow behind him broke and Mozenrath was knocked off his feet and into a wall. He whimpered as the hard marble hit his back and forced himself to stand as Destain's boots clicked furiously down the halls. The vile shadows that haunted this Citadel watched his plight with wicked humor, delighting in the young boys torment. He knew they watched and it only made him run faster as he felt Destain begin to build power again. He gathered some of the mana from the air around him, using the breathing technique Destain had spent three months pounding into his head to pull the power into his lungs and keep it there. It was going to make it difficult to get air in his chest and impossible to run, but if he could use the power to build a small shield, it would keep the brunt of his Master's anger from damaging him too much.  
  
He put the minor shield in place just in time to brace himself for Destain's next attack. He still went sprawling, but instead of the mind numbing pain the magick usually brought, he only had to deal with bodily pain from hitting the floor. Once again he pulled himself up and disappeared into an empty room, hoping to wait out his Master's rage. He shut off the mana surge inside himself as he heard Destain yelling for him again. The sorcerer was adept at sensing the young boy's flow whenever he needed a verbal/physical punching bag. And Mozenrath had become adept at hiding his natural magick whenever he could sense that mood in Destain's voice. He waited patiently, holding his breath until the footsteps faded echo left his ears, and the peeked his head out the door, searching for anyone's presence.  
  
Not only was Destain a danger, but those frightening shadows that lurked about where the torchlight couldn't reach would cause damage to him. Physically, they were no threat, they had no bodily substance in any form and couldn't attack him outright. But it was a favorite game of theirs to attack Mozenrath while he slept, disturbing his dreams and leaving him un- refreshed the next morning. If Destain was intolerant of sloth, he was even less intolerant when Mozenrath would try to hide his head behind a book to catch a few extra minuets sleep.  
  
What had angered his Master this time hadn't been the shadow's fault, not specifically anyhow. Mozenrath had misread a word or two of Farsi and ended up adding the wrong kind of dragons blood to the concoction. The reaction had caused the cauldron to explode, covering the lab in a nasty smelling concoction that began eating away at anything it touched, including Destain's collection of Egyptian magickal scripts from over a thousand years of sorcery.  
  
Mozenrath had barely made it out the door before Master Destain's shock had dispersed and he'd begun firing at him. Once again, Mozenrath entertained the thought of leaving. It wouldn't take much just to get out of the Citadel. There were no guard's here and of course the shadow's couldn't grab him. He'd expected some sort of magickal lock on the doors when he'd tried to escape last time and had been surprised to find none. The only problem would be where to go afterwards.  
  
~Isn't this the only life I have? I mean, I know there are other lives but what kind of life?~ He was still frightened of the unclean people that kept the town contaminated and unlivable. Would he have to 'live' with them? The idea was worse then anything he could imagine. Destain would sometimes bring those diseased people up to the Citadel, using their warped and bodies for experiments that would further mutilate them.  
  
As much as Mozenrath felt sorry for these people, they also disgusted him. And as much as he was disgusted, he was fascinated. All children have a morbid desire to get a closer to something that frightened them. Mozenrath was no different. He found what was happening to the human body fascinating, even when it meant getting close enough to truly see what Destain was warping them into. He often felt repulsed by what he saw, but didn't dare show it while his Master watched. Destain often accused him of having a weak stomach, especially after he'd seen the effects of what happened when a live tarantula was dropped into a live human's stomach.  
  
He sighed and walked out of the room, knowing full well why he didn't try to escape again. He had nowhere to go. And when you have nowhere to go, all you can do is stay where you are. Mozenrath checked around each corner before he walked on, making his way up to the small room Destain had given him. Everything he had seemed to depend on his Master's desire to be generous.  
  
Even the clothing on his back was there because Destain had claimed to feel generous. It made Mozenrath's stomach churn to remember how Destain had refused to leave the room as he had changed out of the clothing he had worn and into a dark blue shirt and black jumper with gold clasps. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he thought of how Destin had simply sat there, his eyes wandering over the young, pale body of his pupil. He still couldn't understand why one minuet Destain would stand far away from him, and the next minuet he would be standing there, stroking Mozenrath's curly hair and sniffing it hungrily.  
  
He hated the way Destain had taken to calling him little kitten. He supposed it was because of his mother being a catling, but it didn't make sense since he was without any sort of fur or claws or cattish behavior of any sort. Mozenrath tried not to broad over it for too long, but sometimes there wasn't anything to do but broad. An intelligent child, he often found himself bored when he wasn't studying or doing an errand for Destain. He had found a small joy in the massive library that took up a good portion of the Citadel. Most of what was there was nothing but magickal text, but occasionally he would find an old storybook or historical chronicle that made for an interesting read with his imagination.  
  
He had hoarded those books like a dragon hoarded gold and hide them under a floor board in his room. The ploy had worked for nearly three months now. Every time Destain walked over that small patch of boards his heart skipped a beat, but it was worth it.  
  
Mozenrath walked into his room and closed the door softly behind him, taking care not to walk on the creaky planks with his boots on. Destain had sharp ears that would detect any movement in this house. He smoothed out the straw filled mattress he has stitched together himself and stuffed the clumps of wheat that had fallen back in. The bed was itchy and crude, but as long as he could get sleep in it, he was happy.  
  
Mozenrath walked over to the boards and carefully pried them up, taking one of the leather bound books from inside and opening it to the bookmark. He smiled contentedly and settled down on his bed, searching behind his pillows for a stash of crackers and fruit juice he stole from the kitchen. Destain was always forgetting that children needed food to keep going, and so Mozenrath and taken care of it himself. He took care of almost everything that Destain 'forgot' about. He washed his own cloths, cleaned his own room, fed and bathed himself. When Destain wouldn't remember what lesson they had done the night before, Mozenrath would work twice as hard to catch up by the next morning so as not to suffer blows for not studying.  
  
He erased that from his head. Just for a short while, he was going to ignore that the rest of the world existed and absorb himself in one of his favorite stories about a fisherman who found a genie in an old bottle. He rested his back against the rumpled corner of the wall and opened the book, munching on crackers and sipping from his juice flask.  
  
"Why you little thief."  
  
Mozenrath didn't waist a second when he heard Destain's voice. He dropped everything in his lap and bolted for the door, determined to out run his Master yet again. "Oh no my little kitten. Not this time." Destain's mana flow disrupted the air around Mozenrath's body and he felt his muscles cramp and seize up. He caught himself before he landed face first on the floor and tried to scoot away. Destain's power gripped hold around his legs as Mozenrath's fingernails clawed into the wood. "You foolish little child. Did you think you could hide from me in my own home?"  
  
"Let me go! I didn't have any choice!" Mozenrath protested as he felt Destain's long nailed hand close around his shoulder blade, digging his claws in. "You would have killed me if I didn't run!" Mozenrath tried to keep his breathing steady in case he had to throw up he shield's again, but Destain's magick invaded his mouth quickly, making it impossible for his lungs to expand fully.  
  
"Killed you?" Destain let out a low chuckle. "My dear boy, nothing on this earth could persuade me to end your life. As often as the idea tempts me." He tossed Mozenrath onto the bed and hummed gently, once again twisting the boy's limp curls around his fingers. "I may give you an occasional love tap, but what good parental substitute wouldn't?" He lifted Mozenrath's chin and didn't notice the light pink tinge coming over Mozenrath's cheeks as he tried desperately to breath. "After all, aren't I like a father to you?" he asked, fully knowing that Mozenrath couldn't answer. "Haven't I given you a roof over your head, cloths on your back? I'm providing you with an education many would die for. And this is how you show your gratitude." Destain smiled and caressed Mozenrath's cheek "You need to be punished"  
  
Destain fumbled momentarily with his long robe, his desire for the child consuming him. It had been so long since he'd buried himself in a body so young and full of life. He could feel the power throbbing from deep inside Mozenrath and vowed to bring himself closer to it, no matter how he had to go about it. Once he was free of the tangle of clothing, Destain touched Mozenrath between the legs, cupping the child sized organ in his fingers. "So tiny. You will have years before you make it into a man's." He mocked and Mozenrath's lashed out, bringing his heel into Destain's thigh.  
  
Mozenrath jumped and bounded off the bed the instant he heard Destain's 'oaff' at the contact. He knew what Destain was after. It all made sense now in one terrifying moment. All those lustful stared, those gentle fondles whenever he would do something correctly. It all flashed in front of his eyes like a blinding sun. He knew what Destain wanted, and he wasn't going to let him get it.  
  
Mozenrath grabbed the door handles and pulled. To his horror, they didn't budge. He pulled again and again, desperately trying. He futile gathered his magic and flung it at the brass handles, watching as the bent and twisted, but didn't open. He threw himself into the doors and heard Destain rise from the bed. He turned around and looked into the angry face of his mentor.  
  
"You will pay for that little kitten." Destain didn't even feign gentleness as he grabbed a handful of Mozenrath's thick ebony curls and flung him over the side of the bed. He was tall for an eight year old, and rested perfectly across the side. Destain saw him try to dodge and run again, and stopped it in the middle this time, seizing hold of the child's hips, and forcing his foul worm of a organ inside the boy' body.  
  
Mozenrath shrieked in pain. He was untouched in this way, his muscles contracted and he felt the organ dive in, ripping his insides. He felt his skin burn back there as he was pushed deeper into, twisting the thin flesh till it hurt. The same feeling could have been gotten by shoving a knife inside again and again. At first he was dry, the violating object grating against his skin like sandpaper. But soon enough his inside's tore violently, and he began to bleed. Destain smiled to hear Mozenrath whimper as he continued with the act. Already his under senses were connecting with Mozenrath's blocking them up like a cork in a champagne bottle. He couldn't collect the magick inside Mozenrath, he couldn't even really touch it, but being so close to such a well of power! He brought his hips back and thrust in harder and harder. Mozenrath's frame jerked back and forth as he cried and bit down into his lip. Destain's hands wandered over his body. They ran over his ribs and around his spine, holding his hips and caressing down his inner thigh. There was a warped sense of contentment he got from rape. A feeling of power and control over another human beings body that filled his ego with arrogance. ~He deserves to be punished. He stole from me and ran when all I would have done was beat him!~ In his depraved mind, the excuse made sense and he allowed it to thrive. His anger grew as he thought about his 'kindness' with taking the boy in. His thrusting grew faster and harder and he delighted in Mozenrath's muffled screams.  
  
~The boy is a prize indeed! So tight and warm, so full of power and energy.~ He gave another violent thrust as he released inside Mozenrath's body. He stayed still for a second, gathering his wits about him again and bring his breathing back under control. He would need to let Mozenrath's sleep now. Let him think about the consequences of disobeying his Master. He heard no noise from under him as he slid out from between the tightness and casually prodded Mozenrath to see if he was alive.  
  
Mozenrath gave a subdued whine as he realized Destain was done and slowly moved himself away, using his arm strength to support himself. He knew the thick wetness sliding down his legs and over his thighs was blood. He could smell the metallic tint of it in the air. His legs felt like jelly as he moved them. Tears made his face feel dry and dirty, sticks of straw stuck out of the corner of his mouth. His hair was in tangles and he hurt wherever Destain had touched him. ~Let it be over. Just let it be over.~ He begged anyone listening as he watched his Master rise from the bed and dress himself.  
  
"Now you know what happens when you anger me Mozenrath." Destain said in a low, even voice. "Just remember, you brought this on yourself. Perhaps next time when I give you a job to do, you'll do it correctly." Destain finished arranging his robe and turned back around. "Now get yourself cleaned up. I will make sure that food is brought to you." And with those words he left.  
  
Mozenrath didn't move for a long time. He just crawled back into the darkest corner he could find, pressed his chin to his knees, and wept. He didn't know what else to do. His body didn't feel like it could move and he was didn't want to try for fear of tearing himself further. A breeze issued forth from the open window in his room and ruffled his hair, making his burning skin feel a little better. He still felt dirty and everything bellow his waist was sticky. The practical part of his mind took over and he stood up using the wall.  
  
His clothing lay on a rumpled heap by the bed, but he wasn't going to put them back on yet. He needed to bath first, get this filthy feeling off him. Despite the crumbled state of everything else in this so called kingdom, the Citadel still had running water. Mozenrath poured the small tub full of bath water and slowly lowered himself into the tub. The heat stung at first, but soon it began to sooth his pain. He sat there numbly for a while, not thinking or doing anything. He reached behind his back and touched the orifice Destain and pushed into. Dried blood flaked off and surfaced in the water. Mozenrath looked at it and pulled a washcloth out of a cabinet, cleaning himself.  
  
He didn't know where the rage came from. He didn't want to know. But when the pure anger raced through his veins, cursing Destain and what he'd done. Mozenrath didn't question it. It felt GOOD to be angry at someone! At anyone! It was his mother's fault for leaving him with that disgusting shell of a human being! It was the shadow's fault for making him tired and unable to concentrate!  
  
And Destain!  
  
Destain was a whole new feeling of hatred. 


	4. Chapter Four

Eternal Night  
  
Rated: NC-17  
  
By Lynn Osburn  
  
Because fanfic.net is horrible about italics and bold and such...  
  
~shall represent a characters thoughts~  
  
: shall represent a dream or vision:  
CHAPTER FOUR:   
  
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming  
Or the moment of truth in your lies  
When everything feels like the movies  
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive  
Destain didn't rouse him from bed the next morning, or the morning after that. Mozenrath saw only the shadow's coming in and out of the room, leaving vast amounts of food by his bed as well as new clothing made from fine silks and satins. At first, the gifts confused Mozenrath, but his mind was sharp and it was all too clear what his Master was saying with his presents.   
Thanks for the lovely evening.  
He wanted to refuse the gifts, but he didn't have much of a choice. His clothing from before was stained and torn, and he was starving. The food was better too. Roasted poultry and a variety of fruits as well as mulled wine. Mozenrath couldn't help but feel that Destain had an odd desire to flatter and impress him. In fact he was certain that was part of the reason he was suddenly being spoiled. Now that Destain had had his fun, he was going to make sure his little kitten felt like he was only going to get the best. Once again he was expected to feel grateful for being treated so wonderfully.   
Mozenrath tried not to look at his Master on the third day when Destain came to return him to lessons. Unfortunately, every time he turned his head away he could still see Destain's eyes, burrowing into his own. What confused him even further was the fact that now Destain was acting distant and aloof once more. Pretending that Mozenrath was still inferior to him in every way.   
It helped him concentrate better to know that things had returned to 'normal'. Despite the 'gifts' and 'flattery', Mozenrath saw no change in the drilling of his magical skills and rigorous training. Within a few hours, he managed to settle comfortably into a thick book about the different levels of the astral plane. Now this was a subject Mozenrath found interesting. It was obvious that his Master was skipping over the finer points of astral travel and metaphysical bodies, apparently Destain knew very little on the subject. But Mozenrath was skipping ahead of his Master's words, reading further along in the chapter.  
He kept his mouth shut and looked up from the yellowing pages from time to time at Destain, making sure that the boring lecture was continued, then turned back to read about escaping from the physical body and discovering other worlds. It amazed him to know that there was more then just the apparent around him. Mozenrath read on till he discovered a passage explaining how astral travel was done.   
Most of the spell was simple enough. It required a meditative of sedative state of consciousness as well as a physical link to both this world and the world he wished to visit. There was the usual circle of power and gathering of energy, but beyond time consuming, the spell wasn't all that difficult. He'd have to find some sort of relic from the lab upstairs, depending on where he decided to visit. And he'd have to find some way of putting Destain to sleep for a while until he'd completed his journey...  
"Are you paying attention little kitten!"   
Mozenrath's eyes shot up as he stared into Destain's face. "Yes Master. I was just reading along in the book." He voice didn't quiver, after all, it was what he had been doing. Destain's eyebrow arched for a moment, but he simply sneered and continued with the lesson.   
Mozenrath's eyes darted back down to the paragraph. He would need one black candle and one white, both bathed in lavender oil, a knife, three feathers, a pentagram, salt, and something to tie himself down to the physical world. It was going to take him a week at least to get everything together, plus a day or two extra to put a sleep spell over Destain. The sleeping spell wouldn't be too difficult, of course he could always just keep Destain awake for a week till he found the ingredients for travel. But how to keep his Master awake was something Mozenrath did not wish too broad over.   
He managed rather well. Over the course of the next week he dug through the basement and dungeon and came up with two only half used candles, one an off yellow color (which would work) and a dark black one which was most likely colored that way from soot collecting. The lavender oil he took from the collection of 'gifts' Destain had given and the knife was easily acquired thanks to Destain's fascination with pain.   
  
The three feathers took him almost three days to get a hold of. Birds were a rarity in the Lands of Eternal Night and when he did finally find the feathers, he was forced to clean them of lice and other parasites. Salt from the kitchen and in a house full of magical artifacts, the pentagram took him less then a minuet to get. Mozenrath had diligently taken silver polish and cleaned the beautifully engraved silver one from the library till it shone.   
  
Mozenrath looked at himself in the reflection on the silver as he began to think of a way to tie him self to the world he was in. He was amazed to see that his reflection was so pale and pasty. He touched his cheek hesitantly for a moment before biting his lip and setting the pentagram down in front of him and following the lines with salt. He took the candles and rubbed them gently in the oils until the warm, relaxing scent filled his nostrils and placed the black one on the left and the white one on the right.   
  
He took the three feathers and tied them on a string around his neck, whispering an incantation to the spirits of flight and guardians of the Air. The feathers rustled and tickled under his chin, even though there was no window open. Mozenrath hummed and smiled slightly, then grounded himself and lay his head on the center of the pentagram. He took the knife in his hand and looked at it for a moment, realizing exactly what the tool was supposed to be used for. Slowly lifting it to his hand, the boy sliced through his heart line, letting the wet blood drip onto the black and white candles.   
The moment his blood touched the pure golden-orange flame, it burned a brilliant crimson. The flame jumped higher from its wax prison and began tracing along the five-pointed star, panning barely a centimeter above Mozenrath's nose. He could feel the heat burning in his hand and through his body. It wasn't a painful heat, but rather a warm body kind of heat that made his insides tingly. Slowly, the heat began to mix through his stomach as the lavender continued invading his sense of smell.   
  
Mozenrath was shocked to see the passionate red light erased by a blinding white flame that seemed to radiate from beyond his grasp. Entranced by the beam of purity, he reached out to it with his sliced hand, letting the smooth, cool tendrils caress his fingertips. He hummed in delight, letting the energy vibrate along his skin as its wind lifted his hair and tossed it about.   
  
~This isn't just energy~ Mozenrath sighed as the tendrils began to work over his self-inflicted wound. ~This is pure magick, the stuff that most people never get to see!~ It thrilled him to not only see such power, but to actually be allowed to touch it! Even in all the histories he'd read, no sorcerer had ever had such an illuminating presence allow it self to be touched.   
  
The pain across his palm abated slowly, and Mozenrath didn't have to look to realize that he'd been healed. He heard a gentle voice laugh and looked up, seeing the gentle mists begin to take on human forms. He could vaguely make out both men and women touching his clothing and running their metaphysical fingers through his hair. Mozenrath reached out to one of them, taking her fingers into his hand as she laughed and whispered something he couldn't make out.   
  
He wanted to go in deeper. As he watched the light dance around him, shooting fires of gold and silver, Mozenrath wanted to go with them. They danced further away as he continued to hold onto the woman's hand. She pulled at him teasingly, beckoning him to enter their world. Oh it would be so easy just to stand and lift his feet from the cold marble ground under him. He could just leave behind what Destain had done to him. There was no malice in the star-filled eyes of these astral people. No carnal desire that made him feels dirty and violated. ~Take me with you.~ he whispered with not a breath escaping his lips. ~Please~  
  
The woman opened her mouth to say something, and suddenly screeched in horror. Mozenrath was very physically jerked back into the 'real' world, the dealing noise of the astral woman's scream echoing in his ears. He braced himself out of habit and didn't cringe when Destain's fist slapped against his cheek. "Stupid boy!" the man yelled and picked up Mozenrath by the scruff of his neck.   
  
Mozenrath looked up at Destain and noticed the large bags under his eyes as well as the inkblots from having fallen asleep against the magickal texts he'd been writing when Mozenrath had cast the soporific magick over him. "What did I do?" he said innocently and Destain hit him again.  
  
"You were visiting the astral planes! You stupid, incompetent boy! Do you realize what that place can do to you if your unprepared?" Destain groaned and put a hand to his temples, a side effect of the spell. "And using such a rudimentary magick against me! Oh my poor head will ache for months!" he whined lightly and used a table for support. Despite his better instincts, Mozenrath laughed. He covered his mouth as Destain's head snapped up and those coal black eyes glared at him. "Think it's funny do you boy? Do you think it's funny?" He grabbed several locks of Mozenrath's hair and yanked him up, dislodging several locks. "Whats funny you little worm? Tell me whats so funny!"   
  
"Nothing." Mozenrath whispered. "Nothing!"He screamed as Destain wrenched his head back.   
  
"Do you want a repeat of what I did last time you disobeyed me? I swear I'll do it each night if thats what it takes to bring down your ego!" Destain began pulling Mozenrath's hair until the child had virtually done a back bend with the ground. He waited till he saw tears fall rapidly down Mozenrath's pale cheeks before he let go, flinging his protégé away from him. He wandered over to the area where Mozenrath had cast and 'pinched' the air with a meditative look on his face. He snorted unenthusiastically and looked down at the blood covered candles and pentacle. He bent down and picked up the knife. "Still... you didn't completely botch the ritual. " he rubbed some of the moist blood around with his thumb. "I see you managed to ground yourself firmly and give your being a tie to this plane. Not bad."   
  
Mozenrath rubbed his cheek and held back his vicious commentary. Tears stung his cheek. ~Of course I did it properly you old fossil. You may be a leech but you drilled me well in such a short time.~ "Thank you Master." He said in a deadpan voice. "I-I tried."   
  
"Yes...yes you did try."Destain's voice sounded far away for a split second, but just as quickly it became firm and cruel again. "Of course your minor success does not excuse what you did~ You will begin your punishment by cleaning up this mess, then replace all of the items you used!" He picked at the knife for a moment and hummed. "Then...then you will come to me tonight, for the rest of your punishment."   
  
Mozenrath shivered and stiffened. There was nothing he could say to. "Yes Master." He shook himself off and stood slowly, fingers toying with the palm of his hand. There was no longer a gash there, but instead a small, almost invisible scar that throbbed painlessly. Despite the warm feeling it created when he touched it, Mozenrath hid his joy at having beaten his Master, and walked over to the pile of items.   
  
Destain exited through the door, still staring at the blood covered blade. ~How is it possible? For him to have managed such a difficult bi-location spell at such a young age?~ Destain brooded over it as he walked down the halls to his throne room. A few of the obligatory shadow's followed him at arms length, whispering their questions too him, but he waved them off angrily, not wanting to break his concentration.  
  
~I was at least thirteen before I managed an astral visit, and even then, the inhabitants were not pleased with my presence there.~ Destain was only being half honest with himself. Not only were the Star People unhappy with his visitation into their pure world, but they were down right violent about him leaving. He'd been forced both mentally and metaphysically from the pearly plane and had been unconscious for nearly a week. ~Basterds.~ Destain sneered and wiped clean the blade.   
  
But the real surprise wasn't just that Mozenrath was the youngest one to ever make the journey, it was in the fact that he had been capable of pulling together enough power to do so. ~ Especially with how the Abyss dammed up his energy. How is it possible that he could have started gaining it back so quickly? Perhaps the meditation exercises I've been drilling into his head?~   
  
The question mulled over in his mind as he pulled a silver cord and entered his private library. The wall slid shut behind him and the torches along the arches lit up. Randomly, he began to take books off the shelves, flipping through chapters on astral projection and bi-location.   
  
~Nothing as far as an age limit.~ Destain hummed and tossed the books aside. ~ But it isn't so much his age as the fact that he managed to squeeze out enough power to do it. In part, he was angry that Mozenrath had gone behind his back, but half of him was as proud as a parent with the success of a child. Of course he WANTED Mozenrath to succeed, besides, Mirage would have his head if he didn't. It was just that the little thing was doing it much faster then he could have predicted.   
  
"This is not good." Destain muttered aloud and took out a book of Keltoi mythos. The Kelts and their drui were proficient in the visitation of spirit worlds and speaking with the creatures there. Perhaps he could find a clue...  
  
Destain felt a knot in his throat as he read over their practice of magick. The Kelts, much as they were fighters, were also farmers and miners, using the powers of what they believed to be the earth itself to make their life easier. And, of course, part of that had to do with the changing seasons, moving in the cycle of birth, life, death and re-birth. To keep the seasons in a regular pattern, the drui priests would sometimes use a sexual form of magick."   
  
The words were nothing new to the sorcerer, he'd read this book before many times, but never had it made so much sense. Mozenrath wasn't his first pupil, but he was certainly the first magickal child that Destain had climbed into bed with. The other children he had taken were either mortal or (if sorcery blood), not his taste. Often parents gave their children to him when they were to old to be considered as attractive to him. Mozenrath was the first sorcery born that he'd ever had underneath him, so perhaps, just perhaps, he had something to do with the boys ability to manifest energy better.   
  
~It's not such a crazy idea, after all, Osiris had a golden penis fashioned by his wife Isis, the phallus is depicted on many different statues in other countries. I am no God, but...~ Destain knew it was his ego speaking at the moment, but that didn't mean it was wrong. His masculinity might very well be acting as a battering ram against the dam of Mozenrath's power.   
  
~Perhaps that dam wasn't created entirely from the Abyss, after all, if his previous parents were smart, they have realized that such a large amount of power could easily maim or kill such a small boy. They might have put up blocks on the power themselves, just to make sure that Mozenrath would learn to use his magick a little at a time.~ Destain scratched his head and began to write down his thoughts, determined to keep a record. ~Though how they planned to let his power sieve through I have no idea, and I doubt they planned for his mana to come through the way I'm doing it.~   
  
But that also meant that Destain was going to have to be careful when it came to him taking Mozenrath's body. If he took the boy too much or to hard, he might end up on the bad end of a magickal explosion that could destroy this entire land. He would have to figure out exactly how strong the block was, how long it was meant to hold up, and how the parents planned on letting the energy go. Already he could feel a headache building. He rubbed his temples and continued writing.   
  
He heard a knock on the outer doors of the library and humphed, slamming the large journal shut. He exited through the back shelf and closed the secret passage, keeping his most precious secrets hidden. If Mozenrath was powerful enough that his own power had to be hidden from him, then anything in Destain's private sanctuary could be considered dangerous. He opened the doors and looked down at the eight year old. "Yes? Done already?"   
  
"Yes...Master." Mozenrath said hesitantly. ~Already? It took five hours for me to finish cleaning? Where has he been?~ Truthfully, Mozenrath had been taking every job as slow as possible in order to avoid his further punishment. Sadly, the inevitable is not put off by procrastination.   
  
Destain fingered the ebony locks for a moment, contemplating the rest of Mozenrath's punishment and weighing it against the possibility of his discovery. In the end, there was no choice, he would have to hold off on raping the boy until he discovered the specifics of the dam. But that sweet ,tender body! That frail, innocent frame! Oh surely he had the child of a seductress in his clutches! Just the way those deep black eyes stared at him, braced for anything...   
  
Destain gathered the last bit of self-control and let out a stressed breath. "Go to bed Mozenrath. And be sure to awaken early tomorrow morning."   
  
Mozenrath's face lit up in hope. But, he was still wary. "Master?" he asked.  
  
"I have determined that you need rest more then you do pain. Travel to the astral can be taxing on powers and I need to ready for tomorrows lesson. Go to bed." Destain had to restrain his impulse once again as Mozenrath took the dismissal and ran with it. ~Damn that boy.~ Destain smiled almost light heartedly. He had to admire Mozenrath's spirit. 


	5. Chapter Five

Eternal Night  
  
Rated: NC-17  
  
By Lynn Osburn  
  
Because fanfic.net is horrible about italics and bold and such...  
  
~shall represent a characters thoughts~  
  
: shall represent a dream or vision:  
CHAPTER FIVE:  
  
And I don't want the world to see me  
  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
  
When everythings made to be broken  
  
I just want you to know who I am.  
Mirage measured Mozenrath with her green cat eyes. Her 'son' was progressing far faster then she could have imagined. She hadn't believed Destain when he'd explained to her about Mozenrath's visit to the astral so many years ago, and in fact had avoided coming to the land of Eternal Night, convinced that she had made a mistake. After all, Destain was getting on in years and they both knew it wouldn't be long before she replaced him with a younger, more competent minion. He was desperately clinging to his position, and the walls were slippery.   
  
But then, only a few years after, the mana flow around the land of Eternal Night had grown. At first, Mirage had let herself believe that the old codger was simply fooling around in the lab again. But as time passed, she begun to notice the mana flow would steadily increase a little at the start of every moon, and for the next few weeks would remain at that level until the next new moon. She demanded an explanation from Destain, and was rewarded with the fact that Mozenrath was a thousand times more powerful then she could have imagined. The method of discovery was less then orthodox, but what did that matter to Evil Incarnate?  
  
Mozenrath tried not to stare, but he couldn't help it. This was the mother who'd dumped him on the perverted shell of humanity's doorstep and disappeared into the skies. He hated her. From the depth of his thirteen year old soul, he hated her. He had tried to find a reason not to, after all, she was his mother, but cold logic soon took the place of childish affection, and Mozenrath had a good teacher when it came to loathing.   
  
Mirage lifted his chin and pinched the air around him, purring in satisfaction. "Impressive...very impressive." She patted Mozenrath's shoulder and turned him to face her. "I must admit I was reluctant to believe such a tale as your tutor had. But then here is the proof." Mirage rubbed her silky fur against Mozenrath's pale skin and felt a tingle at the back of her neck. His skin was alive with power. "And you have grown so handsome in such a short time."   
  
"Thank you...mother." Mozenrath said as politely as possible. He had no wish to be near this woman, only a desire to return to the library and continue with his studies. To make matters worse, he only had a short amount of time before Destain began to "teach" him again. He had grown almost used to the monthly sessions with his Master and had learned how to give Destain what he wanted and when. It was easier that was.   
  
Mirage settled back into a throne like chair. "I want an example." She said, her purring voice echoing in the acoustics. "Show me what he can do Destain."  
  
Destain gave a smooth bow and Mozenrath came ford. He felt like a trained monkey, performing for a wealthy lady. There was no emotion evident on his features, he kept all feels restrained and deep inside, they served no purpose when it came to Destain showing him off. Though there were few visitors to the Citadel, Destain delighted in his mother's presence as well as the presence of some one he called "the oil lady" behind her back. He had never seen the "oil lady" up close, but her body seemed to be nothing but bluish black ink swirling around and around in the vague shape of a woman. She was around now and then, and Destain had never permitted him to actually speak to her.   
  
"What are you waiting for?" Mirage sounded impatient. "Show me what you've learned." She extended her hand and drank from a wine filled goblet that materialized instantly.   
  
Mozenrath nodded and evened out his breath. He focused on a single white dot in his mind, letting it flex in and out as he gathered power. Slowly, the dot began to glow, pulsing outward and vibrating as pressure inside his body grew. He didn't dare open his eyes, but waited till the mana flow in the air grew so thick he could define his mother and Master's shapes. He could tell from the color swirling around their magickal beings that they knew he was getting stronger. He felt satisfied somehow with this knowledge and let the power inside build faster.   
  
Mirage stared in amazement as Mozenrath's alabaster features began glowing softly. She smirked as different objects around the room quivered and moved slowly. The shadow things that always lurked about seemed to wither and faded from the room, uncomfortable with this magic. The dirt and filth that caked the floor scattered away from Mozenrath's feet and Mirage watched as Destain's left eyes twitched painfully.   
The floor tiling cracked and peeled back, reveling the black dirt underneath. The stuff shifted and moved to the side, showing a skeleton, bones bleached white, eyes sockets filled with centipedes and worms that feasted on rotting flesh. The glow which had been building for quite some time now turned green and Mozenrath opened his third eye space, letting the glow focus on the bones and staining them a dark gray-green. The sockets stretched over and began to fill like a water pouch in a river, the color of them resembling urine. The skin that was left clung tightly to the skeleton and thickened a bit, the eyes jerking madly from side to side.   
  
The skeleton began to stand, moaning horribly as it's head shifted from person to person in the room. It ignored both Mirage and Destain, focusing on Mozenrath. Sluggishly, it made it's way over to the boy, reaching out a gnarled hand to touch him.   
  
And suddenly, the spell died.   
  
Both Mozenrath and the zombie thing collapsed to the ground, one devoid of breath, the other barely breathing. ~I couldn't hold it any longer.~ Mozenrath groaned as his joints ached and he tried to stand. His legs quivered out from under him, but he stiffened and forced his body to stand. He whimpered inside, looking into the green eyes of his mother.   
  
"You've started him on Necromantic Craft." Mirage tapped her index fingers together. "He did well, but the magick did not hold as well as it should have." She stood from the throne and paced around the bones, looking deep into Mozenrath's eyes. "You must learn to apply yourself better. I should think Destain has provided more then enough incentive! Perhaps I should ask him to be a bit less lenient with you... drill you harder!"   
Mozenrath fought to keep his emotions dead-pan. Inside his stomach nearly congealed with the thought. "I...apologize mother. I have only had a week to memorize and control the incantation." He cringed as the acids in his stomach bubbled from over exertion. Every joint felt strained and begged for him to lie back and relax. His mother sneered disapprovingly at the weakness in his voice and glared at Destain.  
"You old fool. He's libel to go comatose with exhaustion!" Mirage gave a low growl and slashed through the air, leaving streaks of green in her wake. "With all that power inside he shouldn't have broken a sweat!" To Mozenrath's amazement he saw Destain cower before the cat, his eyes filled with fear and terror.   
"Forgive me my lady! You can only train a boy so fast. And I push him so hard as it is..."Destain gulped as the claws slashed in close ripping his shirt and tearing into his flesh. He grasped at the wound, his face showing awe. "Please Mirage....he is better then any to come before him! I know his capabilities are far beyond either of us to train properly. You must give me time to find a better lesson."   
"I must...?" Mirage's eyes glowed at the suggestion that she "had" to do something.   
"I...I beg of you." Destain asked from his knees. Mozenrath watched, fascinated by the man's submissiveness. He could never have though that this cringing, cowering fool was the same dominating Master who had pushed him to his limits both physically and mentally. How could did his mother do that?   
Mirage narrowed her eyes angrily and they darted from her son to his mentor. "You have one year to sufficiently improve his skills. If I am not pleased with his progress...shall we say your position on top will be ruined in more ways then one?" Destain gulped and bowed down low before her as she disappeared in a shower of green.   
  
Just as quickly as the cat lady had vanished, Destain rose up to his full height, towering over Mozenrath. "You will not speak of this to anyone do you understand!" He hauled Mozenrath up by the scruff of his collar. "You've humiliated me in front of her on purpose!"   
  
"No, you humiliate yourself better without my help." Mozenrath took the next hit and welcomed the coolness of the marble floors.   
  
"You DARE to speak to me like that! I am your Master, you will always address me as such! OR so help me I'll show you the full extent of my power!" Destain's body began to flare alive despite the growing years in it. The air around his snapped and thickened with mana as Mozenrath whined. "You think I'm nothing more then an old man waiting for his death to come? You think I intend to just sit here and wait as you out live me and out power me?" Mozenrath tried to run or fight, but Destain's magickal whips shot out, wrapping around his waist and ankles and dragging him back.   
  
"Let me down! Let me down damn you!" Mozenrath struggled, lashing out with his own powers and watching as they combated with Destain's. The struggle lasted only a few moments, perhaps Mozenrath did have a massive reserve of power, but it remained too deep inside still and Destain threw him against a wall. Mozenrath heard something crack and covered himself as masonry crumbeled around him.   
  
"Enough of this camel manure!" Destain shot out a single whip slung it around Mozenrath, dragging the boy to him. "I've been allowing you to feel the benefit of your own powers for far too long! It's time you learned what it feels like to have someone take your powers from you!"   
  
Destain took him again that night, and again, and again. He refused to allow the magickal energy to build up inside him like before, refused to let it break through the dam. This time, this time Destain drank directly from the source like a thirsty man from an oasis. He pulled the power out with every thrust, stealing it for himself.   
  
Mozenrath simply pushed his face into the bed sheets and held back his screams. It wasn't the entering that hurt anymore. His body had been broken in this way so often. It was the fact that what was rightfully his was being taken from him. Destain could not depleat his energes entierly without having Mirage come down on him like a ton of bricks, but he could come close.  
  
And he could make it hurt. 


End file.
